Unexpected
by Calyah
Summary: Ellya Lavellan found her life irrevocably changed when she survived the explosion and walked out of the Fade. Thrust into her role as the Herald of Andraste, she expects nothing less from herself than closing the Breach and stopping the power behind its creation. The love she finds while doing so, however, will be something else entirely. A Solavellan retelling of Inquisition.
1. Bloom

"Just give me a minute."

Ellya Lavellan bounced her weight back and forth on her heels and suppressed a smirk. She couldn't help but find amusement in the situation and in Varric's aggravated tone. The dwarf was muttering obscenities and swatting Cassandra's hands away, all while trying very hard to harvest a good sample from the iron node in front of him.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" came the Seeker's reply, no less irritated in return.

Smothering her smile with her hand, Ellya continued to watch her new allies, reminded of the inexhaustible, and sometimes entertaining, bickering of the friends she had left when she had been sent to the Chantry conclave. They were a mismatched group, this dwarf, human, and two elves, vastly different from any Dalish she knew, and yet if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she was back with her clan.

Shaking her head with a chuckle, Ellya leaned against the ragged surface of the cliff wall at her back, and let her attention drift away from the squabbling pair. It had only been a few weeks since she had stepped from the Fade, inexplicably spared in the explosion that destroyed all others at the conclave, and she was adjusting as best she could. She didn't speak much with the soldiers and villagers at Haven, too uncomfortable with their murmured and awed declarations about her prophetic survival. So, she mostly kept to herself, seeking only so often the company of her strange new allies. She knew she would have to become more acquainted with them if she wanted to help them close the Breach and stop the power responsible for its creation, but such relations with strangers did not come easily for the Dalish. Still, she was making an effort, and their new and sometimes tedious explorations of the Hinterlands, with the numerous Fade rifts, demons, and bandits they were encountering, were providing her with more and more opportunities to gain and give her trust.

Those explorations were trying, though, Ellya thought with a grim expression before returning her gaze to her companions, and the Hinterlands were certainly much larger and required much more work than she had anticipated when Scout Harding had given them her initial report. Yet, these small moments of respite in their weeks of travel, when she was allowed to step back and simply watch and get to know her new allies better, soothed her soul and alleviated some of her stress. She was sure the feeling would be fleeting, as some new rift would open or another unforeseen threat would be waiting for them around the next bend, but she would enjoy it while she could.

Standing at the mouth of the small tunnel they had found themselves in, wonderfully not too far from one of their recently-established camps, Ellya surveyed the open valley below. It, like so many of the scenic vistas they had stumbled upon in the Hinterlands, was breathtaking. Green grasses and blossoming wildflowers swayed gently in the breeze, blanketing the ground beneath the evergreens and tall expanses of stone that jutted haphazardly from the earth. This was a much better place to be than Haven, Ellya thought, away from the cold walls of the Chantry and biting winds. This felt more like home.

Spotting Solas crouching over the ground a small distance away, Ellya pushed herself off the cliff wall and picked her way slowly down the rocky path. She had begun a tentative but friendly rapport with the elf over the past few weeks, asking him about his travels and the fascinating things he had seen in his dreams, and had even found herself sharing her own experiences in return. Walking closer to him, Ellya realized he was in the process of plucking several sprigs of Elfroot from a crowded thicket.

Smiling, she bent down next to him.

"Care for some help?" she asked, holding out her hand.

"Ma serannas, lethallan," Solas said with an easy smile, passing the herbs he had already picked into her outstretched hand, before bending over the thicket to gather more.

"It's nice to hear that."

Ellya realized that must have been a strange response by the quirk of Solas' brow, so she quickly explained.

"The Elvish, I mean. It's a nice change of pace from all that 'Herald of Andraste' business. Sometimes, I think these people forget that I'm an elf and don't share their beliefs."

Solas let out a mirthless chuckle.

"Sometimes, I think they are too aware of it."

Ellya didn't get a chance to press him on what he meant. Varric and Cassandra were striding down to them, still grumbling, with the iron samples tucked neatly in pouches at their sides.

"Are you ready to keep going?" Cassandra asked as she and Varric stopped near the crouching pair.

"Yes," Ellya said in reply and stood up, before looking to Solas, "unless, of course, you were not finished."

"No, it's fine," Solas said, tucking the herbs he carried into his satchel and dusting off his hands. "I am sure there will be more than enough Elfroot for us to plunder as we make our way."

Ellya chuckled, shifting her gaze across the valley and seeing at least a half a dozen more patches of the plant. The apothecary back at Haven, at least, would be pleased by how abundant it seemed to be in these parts of Thedas, and no doubt the healing potions that would be concocted with it would prove useful.

Settling into an easy pace, the four companions made their way down the path. Occasionally, they ran across a stray bandit or three, but the valley seemed mostly to be devoid of life. Ellya wanted to dismiss that as a quirk of the location, but it still seemed somewhat strange. She shifted her eyes to Solas, as he walked next to her. Unfortunately, he seemed to be just as aware of the unsettling atmosphere as she.

"El'an ma harel," Ellya murmured softly to him.

Solas nodded his head.

"Vir dareth'din." he said as his eyes cast around warily.

"Care to share with the rest of the class, or is this an elf thing?" Varric's words were said with a laugh, but she could tell that even he was looking at their surroundings with a nervous air.

"I find it strange that we haven't encountered much wildlife." Ellya said, ignoring the twinge of homesickness she felt at having to explain her Elvish conversation. She knew that closing the Breach was their most important objective, and that with that meant working with varied peoples from all nations, but the reality of the situation still stung. She was Clan Lavellan's First, and being away from them for so long did not feel right.

Stopping her steps, Ellya cocked her head to the side and listened. She had lived her whole life in the wilds and had hardly ever known it to be so silent, so still. In her experience, such a thing usually served as a warning from Andruil that something terrible was coming. She glanced around warily, urging her eyes to see the source of the growing unease.

"Is it magic, Solas? A spirit perhaps?" Cassandra whispered.

"No, it..."

Solas cut off his own words when a rhythmic whooshing sound reached their ears.

They barely had time to turn their gazes to the sky when, with an ear-piercing screech and a large gust of wind, a massive golden dragon soared directly over their heads, just missing them with its sharp talons and the huge spread of its wings.

"Shit!" Varric cursed, scrambling to bring his crossbow, Bianca, to the ready.

Ellya choked back a scream and stumbled at the sight of the large beast. She had never even seen a dragon before. She had heard legends, of course, all Dalish had them, and she had a reasonable idea as to how to deal with one, but in all her wildest imaginings, she would never have guessed that she would see one in the flesh, and certainly wasn't thrilled about doing so at the moment.

Solas' hand taking hold of her arm brought her from her thoughts. The dragon was circling back towards them, the first tendrils of flame hovering at the edge of its massive jaws.

"Run!" Cassandra shouted, springing them into action.

Solas' tight grip on her arm urged her towards a large outcropping several lengths away, Varric and Cassandra running close at her back.

When they were just about to reach the shelter of the rocks, an intense flash of heat roared to life in front of them, almost rendering Ellya blind from its white-hot intensity. Smoke and ash flew into the air, skewing their view of the landscape, and another loud screech sounded, followed closely by a shuttering crash.

With her elven eyesight, Ellya could just make out the shape of the dragon through the billows of smoke and charring trees. She realized with a groan that it had landed on the small slope in front of the tunnel, their only known escape from the valley.

"No," she whispered, even as she felt Solas tug on her again.

"Quickly, lethallan!" His hurried words snapped her to attention, and she rushed to follow him away from the flames and towards a nearby low hill. Throwing herself over its top and rolling down, Ellya gasped and pushed herself flat against the ground.

"She's cut off our retreat," Cassandra said with an exasperated pant.

"That can't be the only way out. The land's full of those hidden tunnels." Varric swung his eyes to the valley walls in the distance behind them, seeming to search for imperfections in the stone that Ellya supposed only a dwarf could see. Still, he did not make a move to break away from the small hill they huddled behind.

"No," Solas whispered fiercely, "she will sense us if we run. Perhaps one alone could remain undetected, but a dragon's eyes are too keen for us evade her completely."

Ellya's mind worked furiously. This couldn't be it. There had to be some way out of the situation if they couldn't rely on stealth. Peeking surreptitiously over the top of the hill, Ellya watched the dragon pace around the tunnel's opening, occasionally lifting its huge nostrils into the air to sniff out their location, momentarily lost to it in the tufts of smoke. Clenching her jaw, she made up her mind.

"Then we need to fight," she said, turning towards her companions and gripping her staff tighter.

All three pairs of eyes snapped to her face and a beat of silence passed around them.

"What?!" Cassandra hissed.

"Sorry, kindling," Varric said, using the pet name she hated and looking at her like she had grown another head. "I'm all for heroically tragic tales, but I'd rather not star in them."

Solas just peered at her quietly, before glancing over the top of the hill.

"Lavellan is right," he said after a moment, moving to crouch next to her. "This dragon is young, massive certainly, but most likely inexperienced. We may be formidable enough to match it."

Ellya gave him a quick smile. She wasn't sure if she felt better that someone else had agreed to her insane plan. Although it had been her suggestion, the thought of fighting a full-grown dragon filled her stomach with dread. She just didn't see another way.

Cassandra was silent, contemplating perhaps. Ellya knew that the warrior would have to be the one that engaged the beast directly. So, she did not begrudge her hesitation. Besides, she thought she remembered her mentioning something about coming from a family of dragon hunters. Maybe she was already formulating the best method of attack.

"You're both crazy," Varric muttered in disbelief.

Ellya put what she hoped was a reassuring hand on his arm.

"We need you, Varric. Cassandra will have to remain mostly behind her shield while she's drawing the dragon's attention, and I," she paused, not sure if what she was going to say next would convince him to help or rather affirm his desire to run away, "…I'm not certain of how effective my spells will be."

As she suspected he might, the dwarf opened his mouth to argue, but Solas cut him off.

"Dragons are born with certain, innate affinities," he explained. "Judging from the wall of flames that welcomed us, we can only assume that fire is this dragon's element of choice." He glanced briefly at her before continuing. "Lavellan's magic should still be able to harm it, but it would be better for our odds of survival if you agree to help."

Varric grumbled a curse to the sky, clearly showing his apprehension. Ellya was pretty certain, though, that the dwarf was not the kind of person who could walk away so easily, leaving them to die.

"Alright," he finally said, while turning to Cassandra, "but you owe me big, Seeker. Don't think I'll forget."

"I'm sure you wont," she muttered in reply.

They didn't have further time to argue, as another piercing screech filled the air and a loud rumbling shook the ground below them. The dragon, it seemed, had caught their scent.

With one last nod to her companions, Cassandra leapt over the top of the hill, a haunting battle cry leaving her lips.

Solas quickly followed after her, casting a strong barrier spell for protection, before ducking to the side to position himself at the dragon's flank.

Ellya ran after him, spreading out in the opposite direction and perching at the edge of a tall boulder to hopefully keep out of the dragon's line of sight.

"All right, let's do this," Ellya whispered to herself and gripped her staff tighter. It was time to put her trust in her new allies, as well as their own in her, to the test. She could see Varric scrambling up a rocky expanse, presumably to put himself at a better vantage point to pepper the beast with his bolts. Cassandra, meanwhile, had succeeded in getting the dragon's attention, pulling around to put its back to the rest of the party and to hopefully keep them safe from its flaming breath. Solas she couldn't see, hidden as he was on the opposite side of the beast's gargantuan form, but she could feel his signature barrier humming solidly around her form.

Ellya threw a quick immolation spell across the dragon's front leg, hoping to disable it, before she bombarded it with icy pulses from her staff. She figured if she could weaken its extremities then perhaps they could get it into a position more vulnerable to their attacks.

The battle, surprisingly, seemed to progress well, and Ellya felt some of her nervousness begin to fade away. Varric was lodging bolts into the soft places of the dragon's hide with excellent accuracy, while Cassandra kept its attention and Solas kept them all alive. Ellya found her natural ability with fire spells to actually be a blessing. Sure, they did not do as much damage, but they also seemed to prevent the dragon from noticing her, allowing her to whittle away at its defenses in relative peace, only having to dodge an errant fireball once or twice.

She should have known their luck would not hold out.

Just when Ellya thought they were significantly weakening the beast, it let another a deafening roar and took back to the sky. Of course, the companions shook off their momentary surprise and made for the entrance of the tunnel as quick as their feet could take them. No one made it more than two paces, though, before several high-pitched wails reached their ears and three wyverns crested the hill to attack.

"Get behind me!" Cassandra shouted and ran forward, still a good distance from the rest of the party.

Ellya tried her best to scramble between some tall evergreens and make her way to the protection of Cassandra's shield and heavily armored body, but she only got a few steps away from the trees when she felt something sharp slash across her right leg, stealing her breath and throwing her to the ground with a painful thud.

"Lavellan!"

She heard her name shouted above the sounds of fighting, but she couldn't be sure of the voice, mingled as it was with the cries and gnashing of their new foes. She could only really be sure of the searing pain she felt coming from her thigh and the blood seeping into her clothes. Pushing it as best she could from her mind, Ellya quickly scrambled to her elbows and gripped her staff in both hands to deal with the creature at her back.

Just as she made to get up, the wyvern was on her again, leaping to push her further into the ground.

With a grunt and a twist of her body, she pushed her staff against the creature's strong flesh, trying to keep its teeth from her neck. She drew on everything she could to will lightening from her fingers, hoping she could shock and distract it enough to get away. Thankfully, her plan worked as intended. The wyvern reared back, allowing her just enough space to back away several paces, and put more force behind her spell. Just as the beast seemed to be recovering, a slow frost crept over its form, freezing it solid, and a massive arrow lanced through its skull, leaving nothing but icy pieces shattered in the dirt.

Not wasting time, Ellya exchanged a quick nod of thanks with Varric and Solas and turned to aid Cassandra.

Unfortunately, just as she tapped the bottom of her mana stores by placing a final immolation spell, killing one of the two remaining beasts, their retreat was cut off once again, the battered dragon landing with a vicious roar in their path.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Varric shouted in exasperation, putting one more feathered bolt into Cassandra's last target, causing it to flail to the ground in death.

Ellya shared his despair, clutching her staff and fighting to keep the pain in her leg at bay. However, glancing at the bruised and dirt-smudged faces of her companions, she knew they had little choice in what to do.

"We can do this," Ellya said fervently, willing them to believe her words, even as the dragon roared at them and began to advance. She was going on nothing more than instinct, as she had certainly never fought anything nearly as formidable as a dragon before, but she knew she had to make her allies trust in themselves and their abilities if they wanted to pull through. It was a lesson she remembered well from the harsh life she had lead with her clan, protecting and leading them as best she could as their First.

Cassandra looked at her briefly and nodded, a determined glint entering her eyes.

"Maker protect me," the Seeker half-whispered before running towards the dragon once again, another battle cry leaving her lips.

Ellya, Solas, and Varric sprung into action after that. Catching a flask that Solas tossed her way, Ellya downed the liquid lyrium and made to fan out as she had done before. She was slower this time, each step agony despite the adrenaline coursing through her, but she eventually reached a defensible position along the dragon's flank.

Swing after swing of her staff, she fought, throwing as many spells as she could at the beast, lightening, fire, and even the ever-elusive ice coming to her aid from her deepest memories of learning to master her magic. Together, they gave everything they had, Ellya's spells, Varric's bolts, and Cassandra's sword and shield, while Solas ran the battlefield drawing on energies from the Fade and producing magical barriers to press their advantage.

It seemed an eternity had passed from when they had first engaged the beast, but eventually, with one last swing of Cassandra's sword to its neck, the bloodied dragon toppled to the earth.

Ellya didn't move for a moment, too stunned by the sight of the bleeding beast and the feel of the massive shockwave it had produced when it fell. It seemed her companions felt the same, no one shifting a muscle, as if in disbelief that they had actually succeeded in their goal.

Soon, though, the sound of Varric's increasingly loud laughter broke through.

"Hot damn!" he said through the biggest grin Ellya had ever seen on his face. "You really like to press your prophet luck, don't you, kindling? If I had known I'd be inspired to such bouts of insanity, I'd have stayed in Kirkwall."

"Stop calling me that," Ellya admonished, though with barely any effort. She, too, couldn't fight the giddiness that was starting to consume her.

"You lead us to an impressive feat, Herald," Cassandra said a bit more solemnly, "Insanity or not."

Chuckling, Ellya leaned into her staff.

"I'll try not to make it a habit, insisting we fight every dragon we find."

She continued to laugh, feeling an almost light-headed joy at their accomplishment. They had defeated a dragon. A dragon!

Her smiled faded, though, when she noticed Solas looking at with a frown. Her brow furrowed when she realized that he was staring, hard, at her legs. Remembering the wyvern that had attacked her, Ellya immediately felt the pain she had forgotten in the moment of their triumph come rushing back.

"You are injured," Solas said seriously, making his way towards her.

At his words, Varric and Cassandra turned their eyes towards her and looked at her body more closely.

"No more than any of you," Ellya said, trying to shift their focus and downplay their concern. It wasn't much of a lie, either, as they were all pretty battered and bruised. Cassandra, especially, looked ready to collapse. Still, she moved her staff in front of her right leg in an attempt to disguise the blood she could feel sticking to the fabric of her outer robes.

Solas looked at her skeptically, stopping only a short distance away, but Cassandra and Varric seemed to be pacified, not doubt cataloguing their own aches and pains.

"Regardless," Solas said after a moment, addressing the other two but still keeping his eyes on her, "Lavellan and I should rest here for a moment to regain our mana. It is impossible to endure such a fight without going deep into one's stores."

Ellya wanted to be irritated at his assuming words, but she couldn't disagree.

"Yes," she replied, gingerly sinking herself down into the grass, "I wouldn't mind a minute to gather myself."

Solas turned to the Seeker.

"Cassandra, perhaps it would be wise if you returned to camp. No doubt we will require the aid of several troops to dismantle the corpse and bring its components back to Haven in tact."

"Agreed," Cassandra said with a nod of her head and one more look to the gigantic beast that lay slain at their feet. "Come, Varric, I do not think you will need your usual embellishments when you tell this tale."

Varric let out a loud bark of laughter.

"For once, Seeker, you might be right," he said with a chuckle, starting to make his way towards the tunnel.

Ellya watched them go, a small, happy smile on her face. She was infinitely glad, even if she didn't know the dwarf or the woman too well, that they had all come out of the fight alive and relatively unscathed. She turned to face Solas when she noticed him moving to crouch beside her. Once again, he was staring at her leg.

"Let me see," he demanded softly, a worried edge to his voice.

With a sigh, Ellya stretched her leg out and pushed the outer layer of her robes apart, wincing in her effort. Solas' frown deepened when he took in the sight of the breeches that covered her right leg. They were matted with blood and torn open around her thigh. She could see the swollen edges of what looked to be three large gashes peeking through the material, but she looked away before she could take in too many details. She didn't think seeing the full extent of her wound would make the pain any better.

"I'll be fine. I just shouldn't have tried to turn my back and run." Ellya sighed, frustrated with herself. "The hunters in my clan would call me careless and never let me live down such a potentially costly mistake."

Solas just snorted before he settled himself next to her and pulled out a small dagger.

"One glance at the corpse over there and they would be dissuaded from such an opinion," he said with a small smile, reaching to gather the torn fabric of her pant leg in his hands. Within a few moments, he had cut the tattered material away. Putting his dagger aside, Solas pulled her now bare leg into his lap and started to examine her wound.

"These are not serious, but they are deep and will require more healing draughts than we currently possess."

Ellya winced both at his words and at the feeling of his fingers prodding around the puffy and jaggedly torn flesh across her thigh, gentle as he tried to be.

"However," Solas continued, stopping his ministrations momentarily to reach for something in a pouch at his side, "I will tend to them as best and as quickly as possible. And I will do what I can to lessen your pain."

Ellya closed her eyes as she felt him start to work, gritting her teeth and trying to forget about the sharp stabs of pain and blood drying in smears across her leg. It was not her first injury, and it would certainly not be her last.

"You are proving yourself to be quite the figure of inspiration, lethallan," Solas said after a few moments.

Opening her eyes, Ellya looked at him in confusion.

"And what exactly did I do that was so inspiring?" she asked, again clenching her jaw as he wrapped a poultice around a particularly tender spot.

"Varric and Cassandra believe you to be the Herald of Andraste," Solas said, the tone of his voice indicating that what he was saying should have been obvious to her, "and once again you provided them with hope in their time of need. Do you think they would have so readily put their lives at risk if not for your presence and encouraging words?"

Ellya fought against the urge to roll her eyes.

"You give me too much credit," she said. "We won the fight together. I just said what needed to be done, because there was no other way out. Any half-trained First would have done the same." She turned to look at him with a mischievous smirk. "Besides," she continued, "I could put the blame just as much on you, as I seem to remember a certain elf immediately giving his own support to my 'encouraging words'."

Solas laughed at that, his work on her thigh ceasing momentarily.

"Yes, a foolish and dangerous thing to do in hindsight," he said and turned his head to look at her with a playful expression, "but I cannot find it within myself to regret such a decision. It allowed me to witness the more heroic facets of your personality, a truly enjoyable side benefit, even if you so vehemently deny their existence."

Was he teasing her? Lightly flirting, maybe? The corner of Ellya's lips pulled up in a smile at the thought. It was nice to relax with someone like she used to be able to do with her clan, and to see the elf beside her let his guard down a bit. He seemed so awfully serious all the time, which, she supposed, was understandable given their circumstances. Still, she was happy to get at least a glimpse of his more light-hearted side.

They settled into companionable silence after that. Solas continued to slowly and carefully dress her wound, pressing tightly every so often to staunch some errant bleeding, while Ellya tried to distract herself from the pain by letting her gaze wander over everything in the valley save for her leg.

"So, do you have much experience with dragons?" Ellya asked after a few moments.

A curious look entered Solas' eyes, but it was gone before she could identify what it was.

"Some," he answered, "mostly through the memories of others I have walked in the Fade, but I have occasionally encountered them in the flesh. Never before have I fought with one, though." He looked at her with a smirk, but something about his expression seemed sad. "I have spent much of my time alone. Not exactly ideal for battling mythical beasts."

"Do you think you could teach me to enter the Fade as you do," Ellya asked, giving voice to the desire she had harbored since he had first spoken of his ability. "Could I become a Dreamer?

Solas looked at her in shock.

"You would desire such a thing?" His voice was soft, seemingly genuinely surprised that she would wish to become like him.

"How could I not?" she countered. "The Dalish have a few tales about Dreamers, saying that long ago, it was a gift common to Arlathan, but is now only bestowed upon a rare few. Besides, you seem to have seen so many wonderful things in your dreams, experiencing history in such a unique way. It would mean a lot to me to have the same opportunity."

Solas just peered at her, seemingly in thought, before dipping his head in a slow nod.

"You are an elf and a mage so it should certainly be possible. I will think on how best to approach it when we return to Haven."

"Thank you," Ellya said. She meant it earnestly. She couldn't even begin to imagine the history she could experience if Solas taught her to walk the Fade like he did, to lucidly stroll through memories thought lost to time, and the possibilities filled her with glee. Perhaps she could even reclaim some of the ancient knowledge of the Elvhen if she dreamed in the right places and with the right intent.

"You possess a very unique spirit, Lavellan," Solas said after a moment, a small smile on his lips and a strange hint of pride in his voice.

"Oh?" Ellya replied softly, suddenly becoming very aware of just how close they were to each other, her leg resting bare in his lap and Solas' hands working gently on the inside of her thigh. She couldn't help the spread of a blush across her cheeks.

"Yes, in the short time we have spent together, you have shown yourself to be powerful but not a thuggish brute, curious but not blindly and childishly grasping for any straw of knowledge. You are so unlike a typical Dalish, and I find that fascinating."

Ellya's eyes narrowed at that, her cheeks becoming heated for a different reason.

"Really?" she said flatly, trying unsuccessfully to keep the irritation from her voice. "You sound so sure of your opinion. Have you ever truly met many Dalish?"

"Have you?" Solas countered. "I mean no offense, but how often have you traveled beyond the scope of your own clan? How can you be so sure of the qualities possessed by those you call your people?"

Ellya opened her mouth in an indignant scowl. She was not some barefaced da'len, naively believing every fancy tale spun around the campfire, and she would not be condescended to.

"And you speak of the Dalish as if we are some single entity, thrashing around savagely in the dark. I have been to the Arlathvhen twice in my years, and I know the Elvhen to be as different from one another as any of the races in Thedas. But we are united in our purpose, and it is a good one. Do not dismiss your own kind so readily."

Solas just stared at her after that, as if stunned that she so vehemently disagreed with his beliefs, but soon his expression became thoughtful.

"Thank you," he said softly, genuinely. "I truly meant to compliment you when I said that you were unique, but perhaps my attempts were too clumsy. You have given me something to think on, and I value that greatly."

It was Ellya's turn to be stunned. She had not expected him to back down so quickly, as used as she was to the unsavory opinions the Dalish seemed so often to inspire. True, he hadn't exactly apologized, but it was a start. Slowly, she felt her ire melting away, replaced once more by the easy manner that normally existed between them. Despite their disagreement, she couldn't find it in herself to dislike the elf in front of her. Something about him challenged her, pushing gently at the edges of her beliefs, and that intrigued her. Smiling to rid herself of the last of her irritation, Ellya placed a gentle hand on his, briefly stopping his work on the bandage around her thigh.

"Yes, well," she chuckled lowly, "get me back to camp without my leg falling off, and I will value _that_ greatly."

Solas laughed in response and finished swirling the ends of the cloth into a secure knot.

"That I can promise you," he said, carefully lifting her leg out of his lap and getting to his feet. "I applied a special poultice to numb the pain. You should at least be able to stand."

Ellya smiled with a nod of thanks, and pushed herself to her feet as best she could. The pain was indeed lessened by whatever concoction Solas had used on her wound, and she would have to question him thoroughly about that later, but she still leaned heavily into her staff to keep herself upright.

Solas peered at her thoughtfully for a moment, his eyes traveling up and down her form. Against her will, Ellya found herself blushing again under his gaze, an occurrence that irritated her to no end. Thirty years was too old for her to have such girlish reactions to a simple look. Before she had time to think about it too much, though, Solas had stepped forward and wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her gently to his side in support.

Gripping his own staff, he urged them forward.

"Let us depart. Your limp may delay us a while in reaching the camp," he paused to hitch his arm up around her shoulder blades and hold her more securely, "but I would rather not risk the Seeker's wrath if I let more harm befall her Herald by remaining here too long."

Ellya laughed and trudged ahead, her own arm hooking across the back of Solas' shoulders in return.

"Just Cassandra's little herald to you, huh?" she teased, playfully nudging his hip with her own.

Solas stopped walking almost instantly, looking down at Ellya with a furrowed brow and a searching look. She could barely breath under such an intense stare.

"No, falon," he finally said softly, his gaze shifting back to the path ahead, before urging them forward again.

Ellya felt a smile spread across her lips.

_Friend._

As she slowly made her way along, she and Solas both silent in their task, she felt the faint blossoming of something deep and unexpected in her chest. For the first time since she had walked out of the Fade and into the chaotic mess that was the Inquisition, she felt hope, and glancing one more time to the elf beside her, she no longer felt so alone.


	2. Struck

Solas stared out across the snowy mountainside that housed Haven and let his gaze linger over the Inquisition's makeshift headquarters, barely noticing the steady rise of the sun at his back that marked the beginning of a new day. The small village was starting to bustle along in its morning routine, but the sight passed before him in a blur. He could not focus on such minutiae. Too many divergent thoughts occupied his mind as of late: his situation, his companions, his choices. So much had gone wrong already that he could not have predicted, least of all being made to join an upstart organization that stood in such unintended opposition to the powers of Thedas. The reality was not unpleasant, and neither were his tentative allies, mostly, but it was unplanned. The Inquisition would serve its purpose, though, and he would guide them as quietly as he could, steering them to recover what was lost so he could try again. The steps would be small and many, but he would do what needed to be done. He had no other choice.

A loud crash echoed across the encampment, temporarily breaking him from his thoughts and refocusing his attention to the world around him. In curiosity, Solas turned towards the direction of the sound.

Surprise colored his expression at the sight that greeted him. Lavellan was storming away from what he could only assume to be the recently-slammed door of the Chantry, a scowl firmly planted on her face. He watched her angered form in confusion. She had not said so aloud, but he knew that she valued her composure in the face of all the strangers that surrounded her here. Sure, she did not shy away from voicing some of her more passionate opinions to her closer companions, himself included, but to see her so openly upset was troubling.

Solas continued to watch as she stormed her way past onlookers and around the back of the Chantry, presumably in search of some solitude. His right foot stepped forward, involuntarily intent on following her, but such an instinct made him pause.

The Elvhen woman intrigued him, true, but he could not understand why, not when so many other pressing matters should have occupied his thoughts instead. Yet, he continually found his mind returning to her, replaying the battles they had fought together and the enjoyable conversation they had shared in the few weeks they had known each other. He could not deny that she was physically appealing, with her softly curved form and gentle eyes, but he had encountered beauty before and such things usually inspired little consideration from him. He supposed it was her manner that piqued his interest most. He was so used, and somewhat embittered, to the rough countenance of the elves he had met when he awoke, either so arrogant in all that they got wrong about their own history or so uncaring as they carved their way in urban squalor. It hadn't occurred to him that they could be anything else, but she was, and that disparity unnerved him and made him question, like an annoying puzzle that he couldn't put aside.

Pushing the uncertainty from his mind, Solas let his foot continue its intended course and made his way through the snow to the back of the Chantry. He spotted her not far away from the building, standing under an old evergreen tree with fists clenched. Noticing several scorch marks in the earth, he approached her carefully.

"How can they be so blind? So insensitive?" she was muttering in a heated tone.

Solas decided it best to make his presence known quickly.

"Are you all right, lethallan?" he said, hesitating just beyond the boughs of the tree she had chosen as her refuge. He did not wish to intrude if she truly desired some solitude.

"No!" She rounded on him hotly, startling him with the intensity of her emotion, but her ire did not last long. Within a breadth of a moment, he saw her shoulders slump and she turned away from his gaze.

"I'm sorry, Solas," she said quietly, "I don't mean to lash out at you. I will be fine in a moment."

Solas nodded his head and took in her form once again. Her breath was evening out, and she did indeed look to be calming, but the rigid set of her back and the curl of her fingers told him she was far from all right.

"What has provoked your anger so intensely? Some decision made at the war table perhaps?" he asked cautiously, hoping that she would open up to him. He didn't want to dwell on why he wanted such a thing, as he knew his focus should have remained elsewhere, but he couldn't deny such a desire existed all the same.

Lavellan looked at him again, seeming to think over his question and whether she should share her burdens with him or not. Soon, though, he saw her shoulders fully relax.

"I was talking with Josephine," she started, glancing out to the snowy woods, "about approaching the rebel mages for help, and she mentioned to me that rumors were starting to swirl about me. About me being an elf and one of the Dalish."

Ah. Solas was beginning to see where this was going. No doubt such rumors were slanderous to her, their, race.

"And the content of these rumors upset you." He said it as a matter of fact. Judging by her heated words the last time he had unintentionally insulted her with his thoughts on the Dalish, he could only imagine her reaction when confronted with the true scope of human hatred for their kind.

"No," she said immediately, throwing him off.

Solas said nothing, as he looked at her in mild shock and confusion, something that seemed to be occurring more and more often when he spoke with her. She had a way of unsettling him, and it was not entirely unpleasant.

"I mean, yes, of course, the rumors are unkind, and I fear for my people in the face of such hatred," she continued with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I have always been at least somewhat aware of what others say about the elves, but, ultimately, those words come from strangers. It was something Josephine said herself that bothered me."

Now that got Solas' attention. He had known Lady Montilyet to always be so carefully diplomatic, treading the waters of social propriety with ease to keep those around her happy or for her own gains. It seemed strange that she would say something that would cause the woman in front of him to behave so out of character.

"And what exactly did our diplomatic advisor say?" he heard himself asking even while his mind churned in search of the possible explanations.

Lavellan's face once again contorted in anger.

"She said that my clan…as if she would know anything at all about them…that they should be honored that history will know them for producing 'The Herald of Andraste.' That they should forget their anger at the title and realize that I 'move in different circles' now, like it was some decision of personal faith that I had come to on my own." Her hand had curled around the trunk of the tree at her heated words, searing the edges of bark that lay beneath her fingertips.

Solas could see what Lady Montilyet had been trying to convey. She came from the perspective of political machinations, after all, doing and saying things in order to curry favor and give the Inquisition the power it required to close the Breach, as was their ultimate goal. However, he could also understand why such a sentiment could upset Lavellan so deeply.

"I am sure she meant no offense by her words," he said after a moment, hoping to diffuse the angered mood of the woman in front of him.

Lavellan's eyes flashed at that, though, telling him at once that he had not chosen the right thing to say. However, the look was quickly replaced by a sad smile and a nod.

"Yes, I know," she said quietly. "She's a good woman, and her contributions to our cause are invaluable. Really, it's not about her. It's that I feel so continually erased by so many, like who I am and the importance of my people and my beliefs mean nothing to my supposed allies."

She took in a deep breath and then let it go in a slow sigh, an infinitely sad look overtaking her features. "Sometimes it feels as if these people don't care about me beyond the power in my mark and the useful symbol I could become, despite my efforts to win their friendship, and that is upsetting."

Lavellan turned to look at him directly then. "You say the Dalish are so thuggish, and you're right about some, but all I have ever known from my clan is warm friendship and family. People who cared about what I thought and said, who looked at me like a person and not just as a tool to be used. My Keeper asked me to go to that conclave, because she understood the importance of the Chantry's views and what they might mean for this world. It would be nice if my people were given the same consideration." She paused and looked away from him, as if ashamed to have become so emotional.

"I know it's an unlikely scenario," she said, barely above a whisper, "but it's still what I hope for."

Solas could only be silent as he watched her and listened to her soft words. Her sadness and passion, and ultimately her quiet wisdom and kindness, moved him. She wanted so badly to improve the lot of their kind, a dream he certainly shared. Perhaps Seeker Cassandra was right. Perhaps her appearance from the Fade _was_ some sort of divine providence, some work of fate to set the world right by bestowing upon it the kind of person they needed most.

No, Solas shook those thoughts from his head in disgust, he would not absolve his own guilt with such fanciful notions, despite his desire to believe that anything might be possible. Lavellan was simply a good person who possessed the right amount to talent to lead them through the mess he had created.

"I am trying very hard to work for the greater good," Lavellan continued, breaking his mind from the darker path it had begun to travel. "I'm not a fool. I know the Breach is our ultimate priority, and to close it I must become something different than what I was before, but it's tiring for who I am to be so casually dismissed much of the time, whether those who do so mean offense or not. "

Solas nodded his head at her words., walking closer to her and ducking his head to enter the slight sanctuary provided by the tree's branches. He understood her position, feeling acutely the ingrained prejudice uttered from the lips of those who should know better, or at least those who should be able to see the consequences of their words.

"Ellya," he started and then paused. She had not given him explicit permission to address her by her name, and, while he had called her friend, he did not want to cross any invisible boundaries in their relationship. She was their tentative leader, after all. When she just looked at him expectantly and said nothing, he continued. "People are not simple. You have said so yourself when speaking of your observations at the Arlathvhen. But consider that perhaps those who dismiss what you are, do so because they must. That it is fear and not hatred that governs them. I would posit that it is less about you, and more about the doubts of faith that linger in their own hearts. A Dalish savior sent by elven gods would not be, for many, an easy thing to accept. So, they fashion you into an image they can understand."

Solas watched her process his words and briefly considered reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder in comfort, but immediately rejected the idea. He was not acquainted with her well enough to know how she would accept such an act, and he, too, was fearful of allowing himself to develop any attachment to her beyond the battlefield camaraderie they had enjoyed thus far. Despite the deeper friendship his heart might desire, that was not his purpose here.

Still, Solas could not deny the slight warmth and elation that crept though him when she pushed away from the tree and wrapped her arms around him in a friendly embrace. He even allowed himself to briefly return the gesture.

"Thank you, Solas," she mumbled against the worn fabric of his vest before pulling back. "I'm not used to feeling so unsure, not since long before receiving my vallaslin. It may take some time, but I promise I will learn how to deal with these new experiences and people, both good and bad. I appreciate you giving me your counsel." She looked down quickly, as if embarrassed. "And I'm sorry for showing such a lapse in control. It's not what a leader should do. All those people who saw…"

He quickly cut her off, not liking the direction her words were taking them.

"We are all slaves to our emotions from time to time. Do not dwell on it. I certainly think no less of you, and I hope you will do the same."

Ellya smiled then, a small one, but it comforted him to be able to ease her melancholy if ever so slightly.

"I have been thinking on your request," he said suddenly, hoping to steer their conversation towards more light-hearted matters than the racial struggles of Thedas.

"To become a Dreamer?" she said, her eyes filling with delight.

"Yes," he continued, "and I believe I have found a solution. Would you meet me here after sundown tonight? It would be best to start when the mood is right. Slipping lucidly across the veil is, at least for me, most easily accomplished when sleep is not far from the edges of conscious thought."

Ellya peered at him, her smile spreading across her face and melting away all traces of the sadness and anger he had encountered when he first approached her.

"I will," she said and looked past him to the rocky exterior of the Chantry building. "I should probably go and try to patch things up with Josephine."

He nodded to her once before she turned and started to make her way from under the tree's branches.

Solas just watched her go, a warm smile of his own forming on his face. In that moment, he did not truly know if he would be able to keep his promise, to remain emotionally distant in the face of her eager and unintentionally entrancing ways. Perhaps it would not be such a bad idea, he reasoned. He could still get to know her better, without damaging the things he had set it motion. Surely, it would not change much for his ultimate goals. A friend by his side could not feasibly be so significant as to alter all that he had carefully planned.

No. The smile slipped from his face. That was dangerous thinking. He could not allow himself to be swayed so easily.

"Solas?" he heard her voice drift back to him just as she made to round the corner of the Chantry's wall.

"Yes?" he said distractedly, unfocused by his own thoughts.

"I'm glad you're here with me."

And just like that he was struck. As he watched her disappear completely into the throngs of people now milling about, he wanted nothing more than to be consumed solely by his guilt and his pride in pursuit of his goals, but something else was clawing its way into to the edges of his being. He could not deny it, and he certainly did not believe he deserved it, but she was already there, under his skin and firmly entrenched in his thoughts, as much as he wished it were not so. There was no escaping her comforting presence, and he oddly found himself not even wanting to try. He would simply have to adjust and make things work with her in mind, his friend that he would fight with against their foes and protect, even if that meant protecting her from his own selfish desires.

With a sigh, Solas exited the small clearing and made his way back to his usual post near the apothecary. Tonight would be special, a rare opportunity to share his treasured pastime, but it would also be exhausting. He would need to prepare. As he worked and gave himself over to the Fade, he resolved himself to letting go of his thoughts about Ellya and the conflicting emotions they inspired, at least temporarily. There would be plenty of opportunity to ponder their burgeoning friendship at a later date. At present, there was work to be done, and if he noticed an occasional flash of familiar green eyes stealing its way across his mind, he fervently ignored it.

_Author's Notes: Phew, okay, introductory chapters done. Next, more meaty plot from the game narrative. I won't be detailing everything that happens (because I think that would be repetitive and maybe boring), but I will touch on the main points. This is Ellya and Solas' story, though. So, their thoughts and actions in relation to the events of Inquisition will be the focus._

_Also, chapters 3 and 4 are well on their way, but it may take some time, due to the holidays, travel, and spending time with my family. I promise they are coming, though._


	3. Possibility

The gates to Redcliffe Castle loomed ominously. Ever since Ellya had heard the tale of the young Connor Guerrin, the former arl's son, she could not look at the distant walls and spires without feeling a tightening in the pit of her stomach. His story, that of a small boy who naively succumbed to a demon out of ignorance and fear, and who caused the destruction of Redcliffe village and ultimately lost his own life, was truly the tipping point in her decision to approach the rebel mages for aid in closing the Breach.

Sure, she was a mage herself and that had made her somewhat biased from the start, but she had wanted to at least hear Cullen out in his attempts to sway her towards talking to the Templars instead. However, when Ellya had heard about Connor, her decision had been made. His tale made her infinitely more sympathetic to the rebel mages' cause, for he represented so much of what bothered her about how most of the world dealt with magic. His death was the direct result of dangerous religious precedence, his own mother too afraid to send him to those Chantry run circles. While Ellya had never really considered herself to be part of that system, since the Dalish had always carefully kept themselves on the outskirts of shemlem laws, she could not stomach the idea of lending the Inquisition or her own support to an organization that controlled mages through such fear-mongering and oppressive means that people risked the very lives of their children to keep them away.

So, she had met with the leader of the mages, Grand Enchanter Fiona, in the Redcliffe tavern, only to discover that a Tevinter Magister, Gereon Alexius, had manipulated the group into a sort of indentured servitude. She had done what she could, parlaying with him in an attempt to assess the situation and determine if anything were still salvageable, since she really did not want to go to the Templars for help with the Breach. She had been suspicious of him from the start, as she could not deny her prejudice in light of her own people's history with the Imperium. However, learning afterwards from Felix, the man's own son, and her new ally, Dorian Pavus, a former pupil of Alexius', that the Magister was involved with a cult called the Venatori and was exploiting the Fade rifts to tamper with time, Ellya could not conceive of another course of action but to confront the man. The Venatori were a promising lead in determining the source of the explosion at the Conclave, but it was really the time manipulation that Ellya feared most. She could not allow something and someone so dangerous to work unchecked.

"Are you feeling sufficiently prepared?"

Solas' words brought her back to the present. As she had stood staring up at the large gates, contemplating all that had brought them to that moment, he had walked to her side.

Ellya gave him a small nod and shrugged.

"As much as I could be, but I don't really relish the thought of speaking to that man again. And if he truly means to kill me, as Leliana suspects, I'm sure it won't be easy to talk our way out." She leaned closer to him and looked to their left. "However, I doubt Cassandra will let any assassins get past her if things don't go our way." She said it with a laugh, just loud enough for the Seeker to hear, hoping the humor would shake away some of the lingering nervousness she felt.

"Nor will I, Ellya," Solas said seriously, meeting her eyes.

Ellya's playful smile fell into a shy grin at that, and she tried hard to ignore the butterflies forming in her stomach. He needed to stop looking at her so intensely and saying such unintentionally romantic things, at least she thought they were unintentional. There was no telling what she might do if he didn't.

"I won't let them harm you either, Solas," she teased, allowing herself the small flirtation. Catching a glimpse of Redcliffe castle out of the corner of her eye, though, she sobered once again. "It won't come to that." Turning, she waved to get Cassandra's attention. "Let's proceed."

As she walked through the castle gates to meet with Alexius, she knew she was walking into a trap, one she wasn't sure she, or her companions, would walk out of alive. They had prepared as best they could for this meeting called at Alexius' behest, though, and she would have to trust that Leliana would get her agents in position in time, and that her new ally, Dorian, would prove honest in his intention to help.

Ellya made her way carefully, warily scouting the courtyard with her eyes for anything amiss, but she tried not to let her trepidation show. Alexius might understand slight hesitation on her part, but she did not want to let anything of their greater plan to subdue his forces show in her face or her actions.

Having Cassandra and Solas at her back made some of her nervousness more bearable. As they walked, Ellya stole glances towards her companions. Cassandra was proving to be an invaluable friend, so rigid as she was in her stance of morality and working for the greater good. Her manner was something that Ellya had come to respect and admire, even if they often disagreed on matters of faith. Ellya had made other warrior friends, the Grey Warden Blackwall, and the newest recruit, the Qunari Iron Bull, and she trusted them all to fight valiantly to protect her and the Inquisition's goals. However, it was Cassandra she leaned on most heavily for the truly important decisions she had to make.

Solas' presence, of course, was always welcome. Thoughts of him did seem to be stealing her attention more and more, and she feared she was perhaps developing a very inopportune attraction to elf, but she tried to not let that distract her from her duties. She trusted him implicitly when it came to matters of the Fade. As a mage, she had a great amount of experience herself in such things, but his knowledge was different, deeper, and she valued that. When Dorian had told her that Alexius was using the rifts to manipulate time, she knew she would want Solas' expertise and opinion on hand, that perhaps together they could figure out just what exactly the Magister was trying to accomplish with the Fade and how exactly he was doing it.

As they were escorted through the front door of the castle, Ellya glanced at Solas once more. Thinking of the Fade made her wish they had gotten their chance to dream together, or whatever it was that Solas had planned for them to do the other night. Unfortunately, the matters with Redcliffe and the rebel mages had rendered all opportunity for such things frivolous. Perhaps when they were finished with Alexius, she would finally be able to meet him as she had promised.

They walked into the audience chamber slowly, warily taking in all the details they could lest an immediate threat presented itself. Masked agents lined the walls in stony silence, an obvious attempt at intimidation. Ellya stopped just beyond the threshold and waited for Solas and Cassandra to come stand at her side. A blond man was walking down the steps to greet them with a severe look on his face.

His scowl deepened when he looked to Solas and Cassandra.

"We were expecting only you, Mistress Lavellan. Your associates will have to remain here."

Ellya quirked an eyebrow. Was Alexius not going to even attempt subtlety with his trap? She glanced to her friends briefly. Cassandra's hand had come to rest casually on the hilt of her sword, and while Solas had made no obvious movements in response to the man's words, she could see the muscle ticking in his jaw as his face tensed. No, they would not be swayed from her side by any means.

Returning her eyes to the man, Ellya let her tone become flat and commandeering.

"They go where I go."

The man just looked at her. Blinking slowly, his eyes moved back and forth between her and her companions. After a moment of silence, his brows furrowed, and he gave her a slow nod.

"Come with me," he said before turning and walking up the stairs to the raised dais of the audience chamber proper.

As she made her way forward, Ellya took in the sight of Alexius sitting on the makeshift throne, surrounded by his rows of faceless guards. It was a sight that made her uneasy, even though Felix was also at his father's side as planned. She was infinitely glad that her friends were with her. Facing down a cultist Tevinter Magister was not something she wanted to do alone.

"My Lord Magister, the agents of the Inquisition have arrived."

A saccharine smile plastered across Alexius' face, making Ellya's stomach clench. She carefully kept the disgust off her face, as he sprung from his seat and walked towards her with open arms.

"My friend! It's so good to see you again!" he said, as if she had simply returned home from a long journey.

His smile may have dipped slightly at the sight of Solas and Cassandra, but it was impossible to tell if he was truly bothered by their presence.

"And your associates, of course." Alexius nodded to them. "I'm sure we can work out some arrangement that would be equitable to all parties."

"Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?"

Ellya turned to her right at the new voice. Grand Enchanter Fiona was walking to stand not far from her, the tone of her voice indicating that she was in no way happy with Alexius nor with the deal she had struck with him.

"Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over to my care if you did not trust me with their lives."

Everything about Alexius, his face, his voice, the tilt of his head, was patronizing and it made Ellya's skin crawl. No, she would not allow this man to have a hold on her fellow mages if she could do anything about it.

"Fiona knows the hearts of these mages best. I, for one, would like to include her in these talks. Surely, we all want what is best for everyone involved." Ellya interjected quickly, keeping her gaze friendly but firm. Playing and manipulating people was not something she had practiced in her years, but she would try her best to keep everything amiable in order for Leliana and Dorian to have the time they required.

"Yes, of course." Alexius nodded before turning around and sitting back on his throne. He shifted slightly once he sat down and peered between Ellya and her companions. "The Inquisition needs mages to close the Breach, and I have them. So, what shall you offer me in exchange?"

Ellya suppressed a smirk at his words. Good. Alexius was willing to keep playing along in the charade. Perhaps she could glean some information from him while she attempted to stall.

"Now, Alexius, let's not be impatient," she began with a sweet smile, stepping towards him a few paces. The words and smile felt incredibly fake and she internally grimaced at her show, but she pressed on, doing her best to convince him of her intentions so long as it kept him talking. "Before we get to the details of our alliance, I was hoping you could clear something up for me."

Alexius stilled his movements at her words, curiosity filling his features.

"Oh?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes," Ellya continued and made her way towards him a few more paces, causing both Alexius' guards and her own companions to stiffen. "I'm afraid I've heard some rumors about you working with a group called the Venatori. Surely, you can understand my caution, as it would be unwise for the Inquisition to ally with unknown forces. Perhaps you could tell me more about them. It would set my mind at ease."

Ellya carefully kept her tone pleasant and unassuming, but she didn't fail to notice the scowl that had appeared on Alexius' face at her words.

"Where did you hear such rumors, I wonder?" His scowl deepened as he glanced around the room to his own people.

"I told her, Father." Felix said, turning to Alexius with a sad expression crossing his face. "She knows everything."

Alexius turned his body fully towards his son.

"Felix, what have you done?" Shock was evident in his voice.

Quickly, Ellya took another step forward until she was standing just before the bottom step of the dais. She didn't want any harm to come to the young man who had risked so much to help her.

"Felix is just a son concerned about his father, Alexius. He doesn't want you to be involved in something terrible," she said hurriedly. With their true intentions coming to light, she could tell that they were at a crossroads, the situation about to be resolved peacefully or hopelessly violent if Alexius became desperate.

Alexius face twisted in disgust and hatred, swinging his full attention to her.

"So says the thief. You think you can turn my son against me?" He got up from his chair abruptly then, striding a few steps towards her with an unmistakable look of disdain on his face. Ellya instinctually wanted to step back from his advance and swift change in mood, but she would not let herself be so easily cowed.

"You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark, a gift you don't even understand, and you think you're in control?" He stopped just a few lengths away from her, bowing forward to sneer over her from the top of the stairs. "You're nothing but a mistake."

Ellya's eyes narrowed at that. So, he did have information. Stolen mark? Mistake? Despite the insults, she needed to keep him talking.

"If I'm a mistake, then what exactly was supposed to happen?" she challenged, crossing her arms and refusing to be intimidated by his posture or his words.

"It was the Elder One's moment, and you were unworthy to even stand in his presence," he hissed through clenched teeth.

The Elder One. Was that the person responsible for the explosion? She didn't have a chance to press Alexius on that point. Felix had stepped forward.

"Father, do you realize what you sound like?" he asked, a final sad tone of pleading coloring his voice.

"He sounds exactly like the sort of villainous cliché everyone expects us to be."

All eyes turned to the sound of the new voice. Ellya let out a quiet breath in relief when she saw Dorian walking between two columns to stand between her and Alexius. His entrance meant that the agents were in place. She let Dorian and Felix take over the conversation then, their words washing over her with little mind. They wanted to save Alexius, perhaps sway him from his path and return him to the person they once knew him to be. Ellya had no desire for such a thing, as concerned as she was about his use of time travel and manipulation of the rebel mages into slavery for his own agenda. She would rather he be sent to a dungeon to rot, but she did not begrudge their desire to try to redeem him. She would want the same for someone she loved.

A movement out of the corner of her eye caught Ellya's attention. Shifting her gaze, she watched as one by one the Inquisition's agents silently subdued the masked guards. She smiled slightly, giving a nod to Leliana's agents first and then to Solas and Cassandra. They had overcome his forces, but she still wanted them to be ready for any last desperate action that might come on Alexius' part.

"I'm going to die. You need to accept that." Felix's whispered words reached her ears just as she turned back to Alexius and the heated conversation he was having with the two men.

"No!" Alexius pulled away from Felix in an angered snarl and threw out his hand towards her. "Seize them, Venatori! The Elder One demands this woman's life!"

When only silence answered his demand, he looked past her towards the columns along the chamber's walls. His face fell in shock at the sight of his men's bodies lying lifeless on the floor, Inquisition agents standing at the ready in their place.

Ellya walked forward once again, taking the first step up the dais to intimidate him into surrender.

"Your men are dead, Alexius," she said, holding out her arms to draw his attention to the scene around him as she pressed forward. She stopped walking when she reached Dorian, just a few paces away from the Magister.

"You…"Alexius sputtered, reaching for something in pocket, fear and desperate anger spilling across his face, "You are a mistake! You should never have existed!"

"Ellya!"

"Get back!"

Ellya didn't have time to react. Solas and Cassandra's hurried cries reached her ears just as she saw Dorian jump in front of her with a slash of his staff. A bright green light flashed across her eyes and a powerful wave of magic blasted across her body, sucking her forward through the air.

The next moments passed both instantaneously and as if they had lasted a thousand years. Her body felt pulled in several different directions at once, both incorporeal and physical alike warring for dominance. It was agony, her mind barely able to keep itself in once piece.

Just as she felt her consciousness slipping into complete blackness, she snapped back to herself like a bowstring, once more whole and landing in a wet heap in knee-deep, filthy water.

Shaking her head to clear the last of the dizzying effects of whatever spell Alexius had cast, Ellya didn't have time to be disoriented. As soon as she pushed herself to her feet, an unknown man was upon her, swinging a blade at her neck. She quickly brought her staff up to block the man's blow before delivering an inferno spell across his face and setting him into a fiery panic. Not wasting time, she swung her staff and sent a bolt of lightening straight into the man's chest.

When the man fell away from her and his screams silenced, Ellya looked around. Immediately, her eyes found Dorian in the opposite corner of what appeared to be a large jail cell dispatching his own attacker. Relief flooded through her at his presence. She would not have to figure out what had happened on her own.

"Dorian," she called out to him, as she sloshed her way through the small pool of water.

"Displacement? Interesting!" he was muttering to himself. "It's probably not what Alexius intended. The rift must have moved us…to what? The closest confluence of arcane energy?"

Ellya furrowed her brows.

"Are you saying he sent us through a rift to a different part of the castle?" she asked, looking around. The structure of the walls and ornamentations did look similar to those she had seen in Redcliffe's main hall, but the large deposits of red lyrium along the edges of the room sent an eerie glow over their surroundings, distorting anything that might have been familiar.

"If we're still in the castle, it isn't…" Dorian trailed off, pacing as his mind worked on their situation. Suddenly, he turned to look at her, his face alight with comprehension, "Oh! Of course! It's not simply where, it's when! Alexius used the amulet as a focus. It moved us through time!"

"Is that possible?" Ellya asked, startled at the thought. "I know he manipulated those rifts to reach Redcliffe before the Inquisition, but could he really have moved both of us physically through time?" She once again took in the sight of the red lyrium deposits that seemed to grow larger and brighter as the seconds passed. "And if he could, did he send us forward or back?" she murmured to herself.

"Those are excellent questions," Dorian answered, he too was looking suspiciously around the room, "Let's look around, see where the rift took us. Then we can figure out how to get back…if we can."

Ellya didn't like the implication that they might be stuck somewhere in time, a cold knot of fear settling firmly in her stomach. They simply needed more information. Most spells could be undone if given the right resources. Hopefully, they would be able to find enough information to piece together a solution for Alexius'.

"All right, let's go," she said, moving towards the open iron doors to the cell.

"Right behind you," Dorian answered and brought his staff to the ready.

They crept cautiously and quietly through the halls of what appeared to be a large dungeon. Jail cells flanked them as they went, empty save for moldy fabric and sparse and rotting bones. Like the area they had landed, red lyrium seemed to be growing from everywhere, springing from every crevice imaginable in the walls, floors, and even the low ceilings. They were both very careful to avoid its touch.

They made their way down long hallways, over grated platforms, and even up and down several flights of stairs, without encountering a single living being. It was unnerving. After almost an hour, they finally reached a high pathway that split out in two directions, four lightly-armored guards patrolling either end.

Using the best silent communication they could, Ellya and Dorian managed to subdue two of the guards before the others noticed, and with well-placed lightening bolts and blazes of fire, it didn't take long to dispatch the remaining two either.

Kicking the last man away from herself, Ellya frowned.

"This seems almost too easy," she said and looked between the two paths that lay ahead of her.

"Yes, I think you're right," Dorian replied, straightening his robes and nodding his head towards the two doors on opposite sides of the platform. "Which way, my lady?"

In the end, it didn't seem to matter to Ellya. Neither of them knew where they were going for sure, so she just picked a direction and went with it. She darted across the grates and down the hall to the left. The stones walls were lined with more red lyrium, and the damp hallways seemed much the same as the ones they had been encountering the past hour.

Barely containing a frustrated sigh by their seeming lack of progress, Ellya pushed forward. She made her way down more dark corridors lined with empty cells and several stone stairwells that lead them deeper into the dungeon until they finally came to a small vestibule, just one moldy wooden door remaining to their right. Ellya peered through the opening, still wary of guards even though they had hardly seen any in their search so far. Just beyond seemed to be yet another small room lined with cells. She was about to turn back, when a flickering light caught her attention. Pushing the door open and stepping through, Ellya made her way to the cell closest to the corner on the far left.

The glow seemed to be coming from the large deposits of red lyrium found there. They hummed in an almost lifelike way as she made her way closer. Ellya's breathing hitched and her steps faltered when she got close enough to truly inspect the contents of the cell.

"Grand Enchanter Fiona?" she asked, making her way quickly to the bars. Her eyes scanned the older elven woman's form in shock. Was the red lyrium actually growing out of her body?

Fiona turned her head to them, startled.

"You're…you're alive?" she asked, a strange warble to her voice. "How? I saw you disappear into the rift."

"We were sent here with that rift," Ellya explained, her eyes unable to stop themselves from traveling the length of the elf's body. "Is that red lyrium…growing from you?"

"The longer you're near it, eventually you become this. Then, they mine your corpse for more."

Ellya glanced at Dorian. His horror-filled expression matched her own.

"Can you tell us the date? It's very important," he asked Fiona hurriedly.

Fiona swallowed and shook her head slightly, as if concentrating very hard.

"Harvestmere 9:42 Dragon," she managed to get out in a harsh croak.

"What?!" Ellya gasped, "An entire year? He sent us an entire year?"

Ellya's mind reeled at the implications. What had happened in the year they had lost? What if they couldn't get back? Could they still salvage the Inquisition if they didn't find a way to reverse Alexius' spell? Where were her friends?

"Fiona, are there any others?" she asked, stepping closer to the bars.

"Others? Your companions and I were taken in the beginning, and many of my mages, but no, I have not seen any others in a very long time."

Fiona sagged her head against the wall.

"Wait," she said, scrunching her brows together in concentration, "your spymaster, Leliana. She is here."

Ellya swallowed hard and watched as the woman struggled.

"Please, stop this from happening," Fiona continued on in a strained whisper, "Alexius serves the Elder One. More powerful than the Maker. No one challenges him and lives."

Ellya felt her heart swell at the desperation in the woman's voice. She clutched the bars of the cell and gave Fiona the most reassuring look she could muster.

"I promise, Fiona, I will do everything I can to make sure none of this ever happens."

The elven woman nodded at her and closed her eyes.

"Quickly, go, before the Elder One learns you're here."

Ellya and Dorian exchanged another look and walked away from the bars and out the door.

"Our only hope is to find the amulet that Alexius used to send us here," Dorian whispered when they reached the next room, clearly shaken. "If it still exists, we can use it to reopen the rift at the exact spot we left. Maybe."

"Then, let's see if we can find Leliana. Maybe she will have answers," Ellya said, making her way up the stairs and back to the grated platform. She did not like leaving Fiona in such a deplorable condition, but they needed to press on. Perhaps Leliana was held in the other direction they had not yet searched.

They made their way with more urgency after that, the reality of what their situation had become fully settling in. Ellya still peered cautiously around corners and held her staff ready for any opposition, but they again found none as they walked down the final set of stairs to the new dungeon. Something about the lack of enemy combatants was just not right.

As Ellya made to push the wooden door open to the room that held the cells, a soft feminine whisper of chanted words floated to her ears.

"The Light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world and into the next. For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water."

Ellya's feet paused as she made to step through the open door. She knew that voice, had heard it only hours ago.

"Cassandra!" she said in an urgent cry, rushing forward and kneeling at the base of the cell when she caught sight of her friend. The further words she would have said felt choked in her throat at the condition of the woman before her. Red streaks of corrupted veins peeked out from beneath the edges of her battered armor and frayed clothing. Her eyes were clouded red and the glow and sparks from the red lyrium that now infested her body were prominent. She was not in as advanced a state as Grand Enchanter Fiona, but it did not seem such a thing would be far off.

"You've returned to us," Cassandra said, the same strange warble to her voice as Fiona's. "Can it be? Has Andraste given us another chance?"

Ellya opened her mouth to reassure her, but Cassandra cut her off, falling to her knees and clenching her hands to her forehead.

"Maker forgive me. I failed you," she pleaded, "I failed everyone. The end must truly be upon us if the dead return to life."

Finding her voice, Ellya stood up and placed her hands on the lock of the cell to melt it open.

"Cassandra, no," she said while she worked, " this is not the end. Whatever Alexius did…a year ago, it sent us here. We're going to go back in time and fix this."

The iron bars fell open and Ellya rushed forward to grasp the Seeker by her arms and pull her to a standing position.

"Go back in time?" Cassandra asked, confusion coloring her tone before a spark of hope filled her eyes. "Then, can you make it so that none of this ever took place?"

Ellya grit her teeth together. She did not want to lie to Cassandra, for she did not truly know if she and Dorian could even find Alexius, but she needed to give the woman something.

"Yes," she answered, "that's our plan."

Cassandra nodded and then looked away, sad.

"Alexius' master," she began, "after you died we could not stop the Elder One from rising. Empress Celene was murdered. The army that swept in afterwards, it was a horde of demons. Nothing stopped them. Nothing."

Ellya's heart clenched at the pain evident in Cassandra's voice. An army of demons? What had her friends been through in a year's time? How many of them were even still alive? She did not want to think about the possible answers to that question.

"I'm here now," she said, clasping the woman's hands into her own. "I will stop them."

Cassandra just looked at her for a moment, saying nothing, but soon gave her hands a small squeeze and nodded towards the other end of the room.

"You should…" she began but trailed off.

Ellya furrowed her brow in confusion, waiting.

Cassandra sighed.

"We should check the rest of the cells, see how many of them are still alive," she said finally.

Ellya's heart sank as understanding washed over her. Her allies and companions. Her friends. It was obvious Cassandra was speaking of them, but considering the state Cassandra was in and the presence of the bones she and Dorian had seen in various cells along their search, she did not think she would like what she might find, and the potential scenarios caused a nervous sweat to break out across her brow. Still, she needed to know.

Letting out a shaky breath, Ellya turned towards the darkened corners of the long room and made her way forward. Most of the cells she passed were empty, save for a scrap of fabric or some moldy hay here or there. Others held remants of red lyrium. It wasn't until she got to the last cell on the right that she found anything of interest, and the sight made her go numb.

"Solas," she choked out, barely above a whisper.

The elven mage was there, huddled at the back of the cell, eyes distant and the same cloudy red as Cassandra's. The Seeker's armor had done well to disguise most of the damage the red lyrium had wreaked on her body, but Solas' torn robes did not. The red streaking veins were on full display, cutting clear across his neck and shoulders to disappear beneath his robes and appear again along his forearms and hands. His body looked gaunt and broken, the lyrium obviously leeching whatever it could to grow and overtake him. Hot tears sprung to the backs of Ellya's eyes at the sight.

Clearing her throat to work the lump of emotion away, Ellya tried his name again.

"Solas, lethallin, can you hear me?" she said with as much strength as she could manage, moving slowly towards the bars and silently praying to Mythal to get her there without sinking to the floor.

Solas turned to her then, his face startled as he took in her appearance.

"You're alive? We saw you die!" he said, his typically beautiful voice mangled by the effects of the red lyrium.

"Yes," was all Ellya could say as she continued to stare at him. She felt her hands move on their own accord to the lock on his cell door to melt the apparatus away. Seeing him like this, so damaged and unlike the strong and quietly confident elf she had come to know and flirt and laugh with, left her in a state of shock.

As if sensing her distress, Dorian stepped forward.

"The spell Alexius cast displaced us in time. We just got here, so to speak," he explained.

Understanding and excitement quickly filled Solas' features. He sprung from the ground, a lot more agile and energized than Ellya thought him able, surprising her out of her sad stupor.

"Can you reverse the process?" he asked both of them. "You could return and obviate the events of the last year. It may not be too late…"

"Yes," Ellya said again, this time with more force. She blinked away the last of her unshed tears. It would not do to let her emotions overtake her, even though seeing Solas in such an appalling condition had pushed things to the threshold of what she could handle.

"Cassandra told us about the Elder One and his army of demons. We are working on finding Alexius now," she explained as calmly as she was able. "I…we could use your help."

"If there is any hope, Ellya, my life is yours. This world must never come to pass," he answered with severity, never taking his eyes from hers.

Ellya nodded and offered him a smile, despite the emotions that were warring within her. She wanted to convey that hope to him, though, that she would right all that they had been through, restore his body and erase the terrible things that he had experienced. She turned to take a step back towards the door, but changed her mind. Hoping that he wouldn't notice the slight tremble of her hands, Ellya gently cupped Solas' face and met his gaze.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Solas parted his lips and looked somewhat stunned, but he recovered quickly. His eyes softened, as he took her hands in his own.

"Sahlin dar'athisha, lethallan," he said gently, "Mala suledin nadas."

Ellya clenched her jaw at his words, understanding washing over her. He was right. Now was not the time for sadness. She would endure. She would make it right.

Giving Solas the most determined look she could muster, she gestured for her companions to follow her onward through the door.

"Let's go find Leliana and Alexius," she said, a hard note entering her voice. The more she saw of this future, the angrier she became at what the Magister had done. She would make him pay, whether she could get back to her own time or not.

They made their way up and down more twisting corridors, but thanks to the help of Cassandra and Solas, found a stairwell that lead to the upper levels of the dungeon. It did not take them long after that to find the torture chambers and interrogation rooms. As they stalked down another long hallway, Ellya could clearly hear Leliana's voice echoing off the walls. She sounded like she was arguing with someone and taking quite a bit of abuse in the process.

Ellya sped to the door where the voices were heard and flung it open, her nostrils flaring in anger. Leliana, beaten and strung up by her hands from a hook in the ceiling, and the man who was torturing her, both turned in surprise at the intrusion.

"Move and you die!" the man shouted, brandishing a curved blade in her direction.

"Or you will," Leliana hissed, flinging her legs around the man's neck while his attention was turned and snapping it violently.

Ellya barely gave notice to the man as he fell to the ground. Rushing forward, she reached up to untie Leliana's hands and help ease her to solid footing. When Leliana looked up to meet her gaze, Ellya couldn't help the gasp that escaped her lips. The black veins. The sunken eyes surrounded by dark bruises. She had seen it before and would never forget the look. Leliana was blighted.

"You're alive?" Leliana asked in a disbelieving whisper, either too stunned or too weak to make much of a move aside from glancing between Ellya and her three companions standing at the door.

Ellya shook off her horror and nodded to the woman.

"Do you have weapons?" Leliana asked the group, walking toward a cache at the back of the room and picking up a bow and quiver.

"We do," Ellya answered, indicating Dorian and herself, before turning to her other friends. "Cassandra, Solas, check the room for what you need."

"Good," Leliana said as the two picked up a sword and shield and a worn staff that were lying across one of the splintered tables along the wall.

Turning to Ellya, she threw the quiver across her back and gripped the handle of her bow tightly.

"The Magister's somewhere in the main castle."

Dorian stepped towards her then, a confused look on his face.

"You aren't curious how we got here?" he asked.

Leliana sneered, her once beautiful face, now decayed and gaunt due to the blight, twisting in disgust.

"No," she said.

"Alexius sent us into the future," Ellya said quickly, hoping to take away some of her friend's pain. "This was never supposed to happen. We just need to get to Alexius and reverse his spell…"

"Enough," Leliana cut her off with an angry slash of her hand, "and you mages always wonder why people fear you."

Ellya stepped back, as if struck. The remark hit home, and she could not deny the reality of the situation. She had never imagined magic could be so dangerous as to alter time and allow such a horrible world to exist. As untrue as it felt for her to believe, perhaps mages needed to be feared.

"This is all pretend to you," Leliana continued, her words hissed with pure venom and hate, "some future you hope will never exist. I suffered. The whole world suffered. It was real."

With that she turned her back on Ellya and waited silently by the door. Ellya couldn't blame her. She couldn't imagine what she had seen, what she had been through. Glancing around at the faces of her companions, it was plain to see the unspeakable things that had been done to them. Tortures and violations beyond imagining. Ellya felt hot tears once again burning at the edges of her vision.

She would not give in now. She had only had a taste of what could happen, and she would never allow it. Letting her tears become anger, she pushed her way past Leliana and down the hall, her companions following close behind.

It was now several hours since when she had first arrived in the future, but Ellya and her allies finally made their way out of the dungeons to the docks of Redcliffe. They hadn't encountered much resistance in the dungeons, but outside was a different story. Almost instantly upon stepping past the wrought iron doors, they were set upon by demons and abominations. Ellya fought hard, her anger and desperation fueling her. She needed only to look to Solas and Cassandra's glowing bodies or Leliana's blighted face to find the motivation to press on and give everything she had to her task.

Wasting no time, Ellya dispatched the last abomination and jogged towards the castle in the distance. As she came out of the wreckage of the village and to the gates of the castle, whose presence had seemed so ominous earlier, she looked to the sky and gasped.

"The Breach," she whispered, astonishment clouding her voice. Everywhere she looked was a pulsating green. Not one inch of clear sky remained. The Breach was everywhere, another reminder of what would happen if she failed.

Gritting her teeth, Ellya pushed on. The castle courtyard contained another Fade rift and more demons to fight. Fighting demons, at that point, seemed almost normal, bringing her mind back to her own time and letting her momentarily forget everything but the next kill. She didn't want to think about what would happen if she couldn't find Alexius, or if she could, what would happen if he didn't have the amulet. A future full of endless demons and abominations, where her friends were dead or dying was not something she wanted to try to stomach.

Finally, they reached the front doors of the castle. Kicking them in, Ellya and her allies spread out.

"I heard a passing guard say that Alexius was holing himself up in the throne room," Solas said as they crossed the threshold.

Ellya nodded and waved her hand to press her companions forward. She was done with this world. It was time to find Alexius and end this.

They searched the corridors and abandoned rooms as they could, Ellya collecting notes and bits of parchment that contained any piece of information that might prove useful in preparation for the Elder One when she returned to her own time. There were more guards here in the castle proper, and their progress was slow, but little by little, they made their way to the main hall.

Peeking her head around the corner of a wall to peer into the large room, Ellya silently counted the foes she could see. It seemed this was where they had all been all along. Perhaps one last stronghold against whatever resistance was left.

Quietly, she doled out orders, conveying the enemies' numbers and positions so that she and her companions could take them out quickly.

With a determined scowl, Cassandra gripped her shield tightly and rushed in, followed closely by Leliana, while the three mages kept back and tried to pick off the men and abominations attacking them from across the room.

Ellya swallowed the bile that rose in her throat once she stepped through the doorway and got a proper look at the main hall. Bodies hung, half-rotten, from the ropes strung in the rafters and the chandeliers, sticky with detritus and old blood. Red lyrium was sprawled across the stone walls and sprung up in large monoliths from breaks in the flooring. Another large Fade rift pulsated in the middle of the room, spewing demons and arcane horrors as she and her companions pressed closer.

Cassandra waded into the middle of the fray, almost reckless in her push to stop the demonic surge. Ellya and Dorian spread out to the right, while Leliana and Solas went to the left, hoping to flank their foes. Her eyes darted around the room, keeping a close watch on her companions and she looked for ways to take out any remaining archers or enemy mages that were trying to lurk in the shadows.

Swinging her staff violently against an abomination to fling it to the ground and set it ablaze, Ellya leapt over the banister to land on the sunken floor of the center of the room.

"Cover me," Ellya called out, running to Solas' position along the far wall. Quickly, he stepped in front of her, blocking her body with his own, and erected a strong barrier around her form. Leliana, Cassandra, and Dorian were quick to her side as well. Settling her staff into the crook of her elbow, she lifted her marked hand over Solas' shoulder and towards the thrumming tear in the Veil.

She could feel the demons falling at her sides, their death wails filling her ears as her friends prevented them from getting to her, but she kept her focus on the abnormally large rift, willing her mark to close it completely.

Ellya gasped as she felt the tear in her hand sear and spark, the sensation something she didn't think she would ever get used to, but as soon as the burning became almost unbearable, a blast of energy erupted from the rift, making it collapse in on itself with a loud pop.

Moving away from the wall, Ellya made her way towards the giant doors to the throne room, trying to ignore the sights and smells of the carnage around her.

"Maker's Breath," Dorian hurried past her and bent to inspect some magical device superimposed on the surface of the door, "Where did Alexius find this? How did he even move it here?"

Frowning, Ellya looked at him.

"Can you open it? It doesn't look familiar to me," she said wearily. She was beginning to tire of all the obstacles.

"Perhaps," he answered, considering, "his servants must have a way through. Let's look around."

Ellya nodded her head and heard her friends' footsteps move away. Her hand grasped blindly for the wall at her side, seeking its solid support. She exhaled slowly through her nose, quietly willing the nausea in her stomach to subside. Looking once again at the rotting corpses hanging so unceremoniously from the rafters and the freshly slain bodies lying in their own blood across the floor, she took a hard swallow and closed her eyes.

Her companions had fanned out across the hall in search of clues to opening the barricaded door, but she needed a minute to get her bearings in order. She breathed in and out slowly, trying hard not to think about how bleak her world had become in the span of only a few hours. Her despondency and fear were finally beginning to catch up to her and were grasping to take a firm hold on her mind.

A hand placed gently on the small of her back brought her from her panic.

"It is an abominable future, not lightly received. I am sorry for your shock," Solas said softly. She felt small tendrils of spirit magic pass from his fingertips in an effort to soothe her uneasy stomach before he pulled his hand away. Clenching her jaw to steel herself, Ellya nodded and turned to look him in the eye, the dull clouds of red found there sending another jolt of sadness through her heart.

"I will prevent it," she said in a strained whisper, desperately wanting to believe her own words.

"Yes," Solas answered, one corner of his mouth turning up in a sad smile. "I believed you dead for a year now, decimated before my very eyes. Yet, here you are. If anyone has such an ability as to erase time, it would be you."

Ellya felt her heart bolster with his words. His confidence in her was not something she believed she had earned, not yet, but she would do everything she could to see that his faith would be rewarded. Reaching out to grasp his hand, Ellya pulled Solas into a tight hug, wanting nothing more than to erase the terrible things he, and the others, had experienced in the past year. Part of her, too, just needed the comfort of his solid embrace.

"Aha!" Dorian's delighted words reached her ears in the next moment, causing both Solas and her to turn towards the sound. The man was bent over one of their previous attackers, pulling a small red shard from his pocket.

"What did you find?" Cassandra asked as they regrouped.

"It appears to a be a specially-fashion shard of lyrium. A key of sorts. At least a partial key," he said as he held up the fragment and eyed the device. "Let's look for more."

In the end, it did not take them long to find the remaining pieces of the key. Alexius had given them to what few servants he had remaining, and they were not exactly discreet in their whereabouts. It had only taken a few easy battles to retrieve the shards and return to the main hall.

"Are you ready?" Dorian asked as he placed the pieces into their respective holders on the door.

"Absolutely," Leliana answered for the group, a twisted snarl of a smile appearing on her face.

With a wave of Dorian's hand, the doors shook and opened with a low groan.

Ellya saw the Magister immediately. He was standing on the raised dais of the audience chamber, his back turned to them, much in the same position he had been as when she had last entered that room, seemingly only hours ago. It was different, though, scattered debris littered the steps and the stone columns that once lined the edges were cracked and crumbled. Her heart stuttered slightly at the sight of the small and hunched form of Felix, kneeling at Alexius' side.

Oh. Ellya took in the boy's features. Like Leliana, his eyes were lined with dark smudges, his skin was dry and sallow, and black veins streaked across his neck. There was no light to his gaze, though, just a mute nothingness that stared blankly into the space in front of his face.

"I knew you would return," Alexius said, his voice defeated and sad. "Not that it would be today, but I knew I had not succeeded." His head sagged to his chest. "I can never succeed." The words were so low, so quiet that Ellya almost missed them. She frowned at their implications.

Slowly, he turned around, drawing Ellya's eyes to the glint of a gold chain dangling from the hand resting at his side. The amulet. Rage and purpose colored her vision.

Foolishly, Ellya rushed forward, sprinting up the steps and pushed the Magister back, hard, into the wall.

"How could you?" she hissed, bringing the glowing end of her staff to his face.

Alexius just sighed, tired, not resisting her aggression in the slightest. He looked to Felix and said nothing. Comprehension dawned on her then, but it did not abate the anger that was coiling.

"You would throw away so many innocent lives for this?" she pushed on him again and stretched out her hand to point at Felix. "For one man who was dying already?"

Alexius looked at her quietly. Clearly, he did not have much left in him to fight.

"Are you a parent, Mistress Lavellan? Do you know what it is like to sit by idly as your child, the very center of your being, withers away? Would you not try everything to save them?"

No, she didn't, couldn't understand that feeling. She had lost loved ones and knew nothing of her own parents save from the fragmented memories from her youth, but never a child. Still, it did not excuse his actions. No child was worth this future. She refused to sympathize with him.

"Death comes to everyone, Alexius," she said. "We cannot always save those we love."

"Rightly so."

Ellya and Alexius both turned at Leliana's words. Before Ellya could react, Leliana brought a dagger to Felix's neck and quickly slit his throat.

"No!" Alexius snarled, a raw pain infusing every inch of the word. In an instant, his hands came forward and blasted Ellya back with a spell. She tumbled awkwardly down the stairs, but quickly made to push herself up. Cassandra and Solas had already rushed forward, engaging the Magister while Dorian stooped to help her to her feet.

Dodging a bolt of green light, Ellya jumped to the side and took refuge behind on the crumbled columns. She quickly got back to her feet and ran her way along the far wall, sending as many spells the Magister's way as she could while she moved.

"You think I will not burn us all?" Alexius screamed as he opened rift after rift, filling the room with one tear after another to let the demons through. "My son is dead!"

Ellya surged towards where Alexius stood on the stairs, while the rest of her companions worked to subdue the demons pouring from the rifts. She needed to take away his power to open more.

With a snarl, he turned on her. His eyes were crazed and broken, and it made him look terrifying. She didn't doubt he meant his words. He would glady die to see that she suffered the same.

"You will soon join him," Ellya said with a snarl of her own. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Solas breaking away from the rest of the companions to come to her aid, and his lyrium-infested appearance did nothing but fuel her anger and drive her hatred for the Magister higher.

Sending the most powerful fire spell she could summon at Alexius, Ellya screamed in rage. The edges of her robes were getting singed in her effort, but she didn't care. The pain on the Magister's face and his scrambling effort to get away made it worth it. Soon, Solas was at her side as well, manipulating the veil around them to create his signature protective barriers, before sending rock and ice of his own creations towards the Magister's form.

Alexius was using spell after spell to counter her and Solas' attacks, but when Leliana, Dorian, and Cassandra had finished with the demons and entered the fray as well, he became overwhelmed. When his barriers failed, Leliana sent an arrow towards him as quickly as she could, catching him in the shoulder and sending him to the ground.

Ellya made herself watch as Leliana sprung forward and landed atop the Magister's prone form. Taking the dagger that had so unceremoniously slain Felix, she plunged it straight down into Alexius' throat. Not a quick or clean death, but Ellya didn't think he deserved either, and she was not going to take that right away from Leliana. Her friend had been through too much by the will of that man, all of them had.

Even as she stared at the amulet lying still clutched in the dead man's hand, Ellya raised her arm to close the remaining Fade rifts. When it was done, she walked over to Dorian's side. He plucked the amulet into his grasp and held it up for inspection.

"Yes," he said with an exhaled breath of relief, "this is the same amulet. We should be able to draw energy into it from the Fade to undo Alexius' spell."

A loud screech and a thunder-like rumble turned all of their attention to the still-open doors of the audience chamber.

"The Elder One," Cassandra whispered.

"How much time do you need?" Leliana asked hurriedly, eyeing Ellya and Dorian expectantly.

"An hour?" Dorian answered, glancing nervously towards the main hall.

"An hour? That's impossible!" Leliana said before reaching down and yanking the arrow from Alexius' corpse.

Solas exchanged a look with Cassandra and stepped forward.

"We will delay them," he said quietly, meeting Ellya's gaze with sadness.

Surely, they did not mean? Comprehension dawned on Ellya's features and her lips parted in shock.

"No!" she said, stricken. She could not fathom letting them walk out those doors and face a demon army on their own.

Taking a step towards them, she slammed the end of her staff into the ground.

"I will not allow it!" She searched her mind desperately for some other solution, feeling precious seconds slip away in her indecision. "There has to be another way," she finally said, her voice breaking slightly. She could not send them out there. They would die. And if she failed…

"Our deaths will not matter as long as you succeed," Cassandra said softly.

"They will to me." Ellya insisted.

Solas smiled gently. With a disbelieving shake of his head, he moved closer to her and raised a hand to cup her cheek.

"I had almost forgotten..." he whispered as if to himself and trailed off, letting the tips of his fingers ghost along the line of her jaw for a fraction of a second before bringing his hand back to his side.

A part of Ellya wanted to take hold of that hand and order him not to go, but she knew that was both foolish and pointless. As much as it pained her and as much as she might try, she would not win this argument with them. She and Dorian needed time, and only they could provide it.

"We will not fail you." Cassandra said settling her gauntleted hand on Ellya's shoulder. Ellya grasped the woman's hand briefly before giving it a squeeze and letting go.

Ellya swallowed hard and watched the two back away from her. She could not get the words past her throat to say goodbye.

Solas and Cassandra exchanged a slow nod, and with one last glance back at her, walked out of the doors.

Hearing another loud rumble, Ellya turned all of her attention to her task and ran to the back of the room to aid Dorian, while Leliana closed and barred the doors as solidly as she could. Her gut clenched at what was about to happen to her companions, but she pushed it aside, at least as best she could. There was work to do. She needed to fulfill her part and make sure that their sacrifice would not be in vain.

Steadily they worked, she and Dorian pulling on the energies of the Fade to imbue the amulet with enough power to undo Alexius' spell and restore them to their proper time. As each second passed, Ellya could hear the screeches of demons and sounds of battle coming closer. Leliana shifted and fingered the string of her bow as she prepared to be the last barrier of their protection.

Closer and closer the battle cries came, each more shrill and desperate than the last and flooding Ellya with both adrenaline and dread. Sweat began to bead on her forehead. She and Dorian were so close. She could feel the hum of their magic building, almost at its pinnacle and the resolution of their spell.

A loud bang shook the barricaded doors, stealing Ellya's attention momentarily. Another bang and a crack splintered across the stone of the door's frame. A third bang and they were sprung open with a snap, the sound echoing across the room in haunting vibrations.

Ellya's heart stopped and her blood run cold.

"Solas." His name came out as a choked cry across her lips.

There he was, battered, bloody, and completely lifeless, being thrown through the open doors by a demon, discarded as if he weighed and meant nothing to the hulking beast. Her body jerked forward as his landed in a heap on the floor, his eyes still open but completely devoid of any light, fresh blood still streaking past his lips.

"No."

She barely registered any of the demons pouring through the open doors as she looked at him. Leliana was holding them off she could tell, but her vision had almost completely shrunk to that small piece of floor and the lifeless elf that occupied it.

"You move and we all die!" Dorian had grabbed her arm in the midst of her stupor and was keeping her on the platform. Ellya returned her attention back to the portal she and Dorian were creating, but she could not tear her eyes away from Solas' body. A cold fury overtook her. This was not how it would end. This was not a future she would allow.

Just as she felt their spell spilling across them in completion, Ellya heard a strangled gasp. Glancing towards the sound, she watched in mute horror as one demon plunged it's blade through Leliana's side and another slit her throat. A scream didn't have the chance to make it past Ellya's lips as the final waves a magic poured over her and she once again felt her body and her mind being pulled in all directions at once.

When she felt her being come snapping back, Ellya saw only one face as she sprung savagely from the portal: Alexius.

The rift had opened not far from the loathsome Magister. In the beat of a second, she leapt forward, swinging her staff to connect with his face in an angry snap. His shock at their appearance and at the blow caused him to careen to the ground in a heavy thud. Not satisfied, Ellya lunged onto him, a snarl on her lips. She seared her fingers into his neck and brought her knee down firmly on his chest. Spells cast from the safety of distance were not good enough. Watching him die once already was not good enough. She wanted to feel his pain when she wailed against him.

"You son of a bitch!" she hissed, landing blow after blow across his face.

A firm hand on her shoulder and another on her arm pulled her back. Glancing up from the bloodied man, she stilled her movements. Two perfect sets of eyes, one blue and one brown gazed down at her in concern, no longer red. Looking once more back down to the Magister and then back to her friends, she swallowed the lump in her throat and stood up on shaky feet, her rage somewhat dissipating in her relief. They were here. They were still alive.

Ellya took in a deep breath to calm her mind.

"Inquisition agents, seize him. Take him back to Haven for judgment," she said with as much strength as she could muster, her eyes not leaving the forms of her friends. She…no…_they_ had done it.

Ellya resisted the urge to wrap both Cassandra and Solas in her arms in a hug, wanting to pull them to her and physically feel that they were well. It would not do to make such a display, though, not in front of all the people that were standing around and glancing at each other in confusion. Instead, she placed a firm hand on Cassandra's shoulder and gave her a nod, a gesture that was given a questioning look in return.

Turning to Solas, Ellya wrapped both hands around one of his and brought it to her mouth for a soft kiss. After holding it to her lips for a brief second, she let go of his hand and walked down the stairs to speak with Fiona. They still had a job to do with closing the Breach. Despite the terrible things she had witnessed, or maybe because of them, she had not forgotten their purpose in coming to Redcliffe.

"Herald, are you all right?" Cassandra voice drifted to her as she walked away.

Turning back to Solas and Cassandra, Ellya paused to glance between the two, their brows still furrowed in confusion.

"I am now," she said. "Thank you," she added barely above a whisper. They didn't know yet exactly how much she was thanking them, but she had been shown their character and how they would stand with her in a time of need. And ultimately, she knew just how much they meant to her in a way she hadn't before, the reality of losing them imprinted firmly in her mind. She would be sure to let them know as soon as they returned to Haven. There was much to convey, about the Elder One, about Empress Celene, and about the army of demons that was trying to make its way into the world. Still, there were also many things that she wished she would never have to speak of again. She had seen what was at stake, and she had felt keenly the loss of those who had become important to her.

Her eyes swept across the room, taking in the sight of the Inquisition soldiers, the rebels mages, and her friends. One thought burned brightly in her mind as her gaze lingered on Solas, who was once more whole and strong, and alive. She would not fail.

* * *

><p><em>Sorry for the wait with this one. I agonized over it for a while due to how much in-game dialogue there is, which I really didn't want to include, and I didn't get much time to write and edit through the holidays. Hopefully, you all enjoyed it, though. In Hushed Whispers was a pretty crucial quest for Ellya and how it shapes her world. Next up: Solas POV and the attack on Haven.<em>


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